A Very Larry Thanksgiving
by BlueWhitney
Summary: Honestly now, who has school on Thanksgiving? Rated for language and general weirdness. And Muggles.
1. Chapter 1

**This fic is not necessarily a sequel, but more of a companion fic, to the preceding "The Diary of Lyle (Or Is It Larry?)" If you haven't read that one, then this is probably not gonna make a whole lot of sense. And even then, not so much.  
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**Monday: **

Muggles thinks he's the shit these days, even more than usual. Walks around with his tail all curled up, wagging it, flaunting Doug's bitch like she's something else. I mean Miss Lovegood. You know. Not Mom. Mom's not a bitch. Even if she _does_ love Super Sis and a dog and her new boyfriend more than me. I guess it would be wrong to call Mom a bitch. Doug is kind of a bitch, though. Just telling it like it is.

Miss Lovegood isn't all that. Her and her fucking hair bow. Sometimes I look at her, and I can see Super Sis in her furry little face. All superior, walking all over me with her creepy-ass midget legs. And Doug worships her the way Dad does Super Sis. I don't know, man, I just don't get it.

I walked into the living room yesterday, thinking sure, I'll just crash in front of the tv for a while, and they were just going at it, right out in the middle of the floor. Like that's not fucking disgusting, right? It must be nice to have somebody. I wonder if dogs feel love. I don't think Muggles does. You can just tell. Looking into his eyes, it's like hell opened up, and the devil's staring back at you, daring you to fuck with him. Like, Just try, asshole. I've crapped out worthier opponents after chowing down on Kibbles. 

Anyways, I sat down in front of the tv. I mean, I knew Muggles was doing it on purpose, getting off on me being there. Plus he probably only gets it up for Miss Lovegood cause she looks just like him. You can just tell he's that kinda guy. Sick little pervert. So I'm sitting there, trying to watch Jeopardy or Wheel of Fortune or some shit, and they're thrashing around in front of the screen like they're making a porno. And I'm like, fine, sure, real impressive. I'm fucking impressed, does that do it for you? Doggie style ain't so kinky when you're a DOG, dumbass. Let's see if you can make it till this dude gets to the million dollar question.

And he did! And then Miss Lovegood was lolling around, like Oh GOD Muggles, you STUD, with her bow hanging off the side of her head. Like she didn't know what just hit her, but god damn, you know? And I swear to god I thought Muggles lit up a cigarette for a second there, but then it turned out I dropped my joint witout knowing it, I guess when I was watching them. I mean, not that I was watching. Coupla ratty dogs don't do much for me. But you get me. So he was just sniffing at the joint. I sat and stared at him for a little bit, sorta feeling like I was just violated or something, kinda teary eyed, you know? Then the carpet started smoking, and I stomped it out before I remembered I was barefoot. I started crying and I wanted it to be because of my foot, but I just don't know, man.

I'm so lonely. I wish Eyebrows would come back. Or at least drop me a line. I don't get it. Did he leave me too? Shit, I wasn't gonna make him wear the tights. We were supposed to take over the whole world. What happened?

**Entry:**

Okay, so here's the deal with Thanksgiving. The pilgrims came over on the Mayflower, and hahaha! Naw, I'm just shitting you. But seriously.

Mom came in a few minutes ago and said we're going to Virginia for Thanksgiving this year. And I'm kind of stoned, right, so I'm like, " . . . Cause of the pilgrims?" I don't know, I was thinking roots or something. Historic. And she stares at me, like I'm an idiot or something, and finally says, "Cause of your father. Honestly, young man, sometimes I worry about you."

And it always makes me wonder when she calls me shit like that, like young man, cause did she forget my name? And then I get freaked out, cause when was the last time somebody said my name out loud? Last time I remember, Eyebrows was all like, "Look, Larry, just lay low for a little while, tell your folks I brainwashed you or, I don't know, controlled your body or something. Whatever I do. I'll be back Monday." All out of the blue. Cause he said he had some date with Super Sis in some hotel, which I didn't really buy, but he seemed pretty excited about it, so I didn't wanna piss him off. I mean, he shaved and everything. Dude shaves, you know he's serious. I think he even pruned all the little strays around his eyebrows. They'd go up to his hairline if he didn't do that every now and then. I know, cause I caught him tweezing one time. DO NOT tell him I told you. He will freak out, believe me. I know. I had a doorknob-shaped bruise in my back for a week. He throws people into shit like it's a nervous tic or something. You come up behind him too quiet, and BANG, you're going through the wall Bugs Bunny style. Dude's gotta stop that, I keep telling him.

So right, I come home like he said, and the minute I step in, I put up my hands and start in, "Okay, here it is: Eyebrows—I mean this Sylar guy brainwashed me and made me help him. But I FOUGHT it, right? And we're like mind-melding and shit, cause that's just how I roll, so finally he starts controlling my body. Like that weird-ass puppet guy, you remember him? He was like, I don't know how to put it, fat and kind of rapey, remember? So it's like that, right? And—"

And then Mom is like, "Mister, what are you going on about?" So I'm kinda not sure if she just doesn't care I'm back, or maybe she didn't know I ever left. And then I turn to the left, and there's this dude sitting there with his arm around Mom, and it's not Dad, it's this weird guy with no glasses and this big douchey smile. So he sticks out his hand, and he goes, "Louie, I presume!"

And then I look around--like, this is the right house, isn't it?--and see Muggles sitting there in the doorway, laughing at me, only there's TWO of him now, and I yell, "Son of a SHIT!" and kick the coffee table, and ever since then this guy Doug acts like I might go off any minute. Which is cool with me, don't get me wrong. I'm a supervillain, you know? I should inspire fear wherever I tread.

I don't know. It was a weird homecoming, I guess, is what I'm saying. But that's got nothing to do with Thanksgiving.

All of a sudden I remember, oh yeah, Dad fucking followed Super Sis to college. In Virginia. Cause that's totally normal. Emtpy nest syndrome, shit, just fly over to her new nest and tell her to scootch over a little bit so you can unpack. Problem solved. It's not like you have a SON, you four-eyed bastard. It's not like you have a SON who could use a father figure who DOESN'T sound like Minnie Mouse when he talks to his tiny girl-dog or DOESN'T have a wallet fulla Super Sis stalker shots. Not saying Eyebrows isn't cool, but dude's got some issues, you gotta admit. Son of a bitch, no wonder I'm walking around in tights under my jeans. That shit's not my fault!

I gotta get out of this Virginia thing somehow. Thanksgiving rolls around, last place I wanna be is at a table with Mom and Doug and Dad and Super Sis. Tell you what I'd be thankful for--you can't overdose on weed, that's what!

**Tuesday:**

I was feeling kinda shitty at dinner. Mom and Doug were being all weird and flirty, and I'm thinking, Son of a bitch, she feeds him one more carrot, my skin is just gonna crawl right off over the carpet and out the door and MOTHERFUCKER where are Doug's hands???

And I'm feeling like nobody knows I'm there, and maybe nobody EVER does, and what if it turns into a repeat of Muggles and Lovegood in front of the tv, right? Only on the table and way more traumatic?

So I blurt out, "I'm not going to Thanksgiving!" And they stop and look around like Who said that? But then Mom recovers and gets all stern and goes, "I'm sorry?" And I wanna shout, "Hey, she's sorry! And just 17 years late!" But all I say is, "I got school."

Which was me being sarcastic, right? I mean, you got that, right? Cause it's pretty fucking obvious I don't have school at fucking dinnertime on fucking Thanksgiving. I mean, wow. Holy shit!

But anyways, I got out of it like I wanted. Sometimes you don't know whether to laugh or cry. Except for Muggles. Seems like Muggles is always laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Turkey**** Day!**

Anyhow, I'm pretty sure it's Thanksgiving. Like 80%. I mean, I'm the only one here. I woke up a little while ago, and everybody's gone, and the lights are all off and the doors are locked, so I'm guessing Mom and Doug hauled ass to Virginia. And by ass, I mean Muggles, ahahaha! Seriously, fuck you, Muggles.

I gotta admit, there was like one second there where I was kinda sad that I decided not to go, cause you know, turkey, right? I mean who doesn't like turkey? I bet even turkeys do, if you asked them before they found out. Then I remember it's at Dad's, so fuck it, never mind. I can just see him shoving little pieces of black turkey into Super Sis's mouth and wiping her smug little face with a napkin. And she's probably sitting on his knee like fucking Santa Claus, and Mom's feeding Doug carrots again . . . And Muggles is off in a corner banging Lovegood. Jeez!! Anybody want seconds?

College, my ass. Fucking blonde goes all the way into her brain. She couldn't add two plus two if her life depended on it. Shit, life, what am I saying? I can just see her, whining around her dorm room, getting kinky with scissors and staplers and shit so geeks'll do her homework for her. Super Sis is good with the geeks. Wonder if she's knocked up yet. Snort! Oh my god, Eyebrows would freak! Not Dad, though, hell no, he'd just be like, "Aw, my little Claire Bear's growing up! I just wish I coulda been there." Yeah, too bad she never gets any taller! The fuck is that about? Least I'm not a god damn hobbit, dad! But we all know who the Precious is around here, don't we? Yeah, you bet we do!

Aw, damn it, I'm getting pissed off again. Be right back. I need to mellow out.

Kay, I'm back. Anyways, I went and shimmied out of my jeans. Cause nobody's home, and I might as well be walking around in my tights, right? Fuck yeah!! Feel like I kinda got my mojo back. Been feeling weird ever since I got home. Too much clothes or something. I don't know.

I gotta make dinner now. Only thing is, what does a supervillain have for his first Thanksgiving dinner if he doesn't have a turkey? Gotta think about this.

**Entry**:

Sweet, dinner's on! You know I rock as a cook, right? I totally do. And not just toast and shit, either. Like this one time me and Eyebrows were just chilling, and all of a sudden it hits me, and I'm like, "Dude! I am so making pancakes! You want pancakes, right?" Cause who doesn't want pancakes? I always want pancakes! So he seemed cool with it, only for some reason he wished I wouldn't run around the kitchen in my tights with an apron over them. Only he didn't say run, he called it prancing, which I thought was waaay outta line. It's called grace, for god's sake! I mean, get real, you gonna perch on a windowsill or pull off a flying roundhouse being all wobbly and inflexible?? NO! You gotta be graceful! Like a ballerina, only badass!

And at one point, he sorta rubs his hand over his forehead and goes, "Larry, where the hell did you even get that apron?" I don't know, I guess it was kinda pink and frilly or something. I think it used to be mom's. But I didn't tell him that, cause he gets all moody if you talk about moms. Dude's got a total mommy complex, you do not not wanna go there. He's had like three or four, however that shit works. I don't know, I think he was a foster kid or something, like that kid at school who gave Alan a swirlie that one time. What was that kid's name again? Jim. No, James. Wait, is that the same name? Joey?

Well, anyhow, never mind. Eyebrows starts talking about it sometimes, and I just sit there going, "Yeah, man, that fucking sucks, man!" only really I'm trying to figure out if I got enough pocket money for a new bag. But he gets to vent, so we're cool. Only most of the time, he just gets more and more pissed off, till he's sitting there all red in the face, sparking, I mean like literally sparking, looking like he's about to fucking snap in half.

Ezekiel! The kid's name was Ezekiel. Son of a bitch, no wonder he was so pissed all the time.

Anyhow, I'm like, "Sylar, dude, you gotta calm down! Parents, man, I get it." And he growls, "What do you know about it, Larry?" And I'm like, "Are you shitting me??" And he's like, "Well, at least you had Claire!" And come the fuck ON! Right? So I go, "Claire? Claire Bear McHappy-Healing CHEERLEADER FACE?? Is that who you're talking about, Sylar? Aw you gotta be fucking with me! Oh, yeah, like you would've just loved for Claire to be your sister!"

Cause he's not weird enough with his sharpie brows and that demented little photog operation he's got going on the side and shit, right? Hell no.

And then Eyebrows' shoulders slump, and he's all, "Well—well, no I guess not. Although, actually. . . I did think she was my niece for a few weeks one time." Then shit got awkward. But the pancakes! Oh my god!!

What was I talking about? Oh, yeah, dinner!

Hey, I wonder if my spoon is still under my sock drawer. Be right back!

**Friday:**

I don't know about your Thanksgiving, but mine is rocking!! You wanna know why? I got one reason for you:

The reunion of Eyebrows and Larry!

Dinner's on, like I said, and I was just running upstairs to get my headband/supervillain mask, cause I want to eat Thanksgiving dinner in style. So I'm coming back out of my room, pulling it over my head, and I don't know, I guess I got a little excited, cause I jumped up on the handrail thinking I'd slide down it so my cape could fly out behind me. But I guess I shoulda hung on better or something (I stuck my arms out in front of me like Superman). Next thing I know, I'm flipped over the side. (I also racked the sweet living fuck outta myself, but I'm trying to forget that part.) Which, okay, it's not that  long of a drop, right? Only my cape got snagged on the banister.

So I'm just hanging there, right? And by hanging, I mean OH MY GOD I'm fucking dying! And I'm thinking, shit, when Mom and Doug get home, they're gonna find my corpse dangling over the stairs in tights, and they're gonna think it's some kind of erotic asphyxiation type deal. And you know what? That is not the way a hardcore supervillain goes out, my friend! Not Larry!

So I'm struggling, and I keep saying inside my head, "You are not gonna win, Muggles! I haven't made you rue yet, but it's still coming!"

That's when I hear the footsteps coming from down the hall. They're real faint, cause my ears are kinda stopping up at this point, but I start thinking, oh shit, like is that Grim Reaper coming down to take my soul away or something? Like, should I have been a better person maybe and not smoked so much pot or promised to help Eyebrows annihilate our enemies and enslave the human race?

I hear a voice, real muffled, yell, "Larry!"

And I'm like, shit man, even the Grim Reaper doesn't know my fucking name. And I start trying to say, "Lyle. It's fucking Lyle!" Only nothing comes out. And then I felt like I was falling, and everything just went away. I'm not gonna lie, it was kinda nice.

But when I woke up—I guess I was out maybe five or ten minutes, not too long—someone's standing over me, holding something pink and frilly out in front of my face.

And this real familiar voice says, "Larry. What have I told you about this?" And I'm like, "Unnnnh?" And he's like, "What have I told you about this apron, Larry?" And I'm like, "Dad?" And he's like, "Damn it, Larry!! You can wear the apron backwards, but that doesn't make it a cape!"

And then all of a sudden it hits me: um, hello? EYEBROWS! He must've come in Super Sis's window!

So I bolt upright, and I swear to god I've never been so happy to see his weird-ass-looking face! You ever notice he kinda looks like a muppet? Anyhow, after I get done coughing, I go, "Dude, fuck the apron! Where the hell have you been?"

Then he flings my cape down beside me—looks like he TK-ed it in back to get me down, or maybe just so I couldn't wear it anymore—and of course he starts right in whining. I mean, don't get me wrong, Eyebrows is cool and totally badass and all that, but he can be kiiiinda whiny. So he takes off about how he was violated by, like, four people at that hotel where he was supposed to meet Super Sis. I think maybe he said one of them was Dad, which that's weird, right? Like maybe this whole divorce shit's starting to make sense. But I'm kinda hazy on that, cause next up he started in about some paramedic holding him down and nailing him so bad he screamed. Like, whoa, TMI!!!

But I want to be sympathetic, right, so I'm like, "Jeez, man, sounds like you got a nice lawsuit cooking there. I mean if you wanted one."

And he's like, "Lawsuit?" And he kinda snorts and says, "As if I needed the money."

And get this: Right in front of me, he turns one of the sofa cushions into gold! And I'm sitting there with my chin on the floor. Like, how did I not know about THIS shit??

So I'm like, "DUDE! Dude!" with my arms up, hands pointing at he cushion. And he's playing it cool like he likes to do so much, sitting back acting like he feels better already, like, "What?" All casual and shit. And I'm like, "Dude?!" And he raises one of his sharpie brows and goes, "Um, yes?"

And then I kinda lost my train of thought and forgot what I wanted to say. So I was just like, "You want dinner, man? I made brownies."


	3. Chapter 3

**How awesome is it that I didn't finish a Thanksgiving story until after the New Year? Not very, you say? **

**Seriously, you guys, big oops-a-daisy on my part. Shit happened. **

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**Thanksgiving:**

It was sweet, man, I'm telling you. Just me and Eyebrows, hanging in the living room. Best Thanksgiving I ever had.

At one point Eyebrows started up, "You know, Larry, sometimes . . ." And then he just sort of zoned out for about five minutes, staring over my head at the clock on the wall. I was kinda worried for a second there, thinking maybe I should poke him with my spoon to make sure he's okay, but he was still breathing. Finally I try to jump start him by saying, "Sometimes . . ?" And he just looks over at me, mouth open, and says, "What?" And I'm like, "You were saying, _sometimes_ . . ." And at first he looked real blank, like what the fuck is this guy talking about, and then he shakes his head and goes, "Oh, right, right. No . . . I was saying sometimes, I feel like I ought to be doing more with my life. You know, like . . . Or maybe less." Then he looked kinda confused and finally winded down with, "Or maybe the same amount, you know. Just in a different field."

And I go, "Yeah, I know what you mean, man. I used to wanna be a vet, till I met Muggles."

So we sit there staring at each other, and I feel like we're totally connected, right, like we're on the same level. And I'm thinking I should say something, you know, like about how he's special and all that junk, and how I'm special, too, but I never realized it till I met him. And how maybe it doesn't matter so much if our parents don't give a shit, like fuck 'em man, we fucking matter!

So I open my mouth and I'm like, "Sylar, buddy . . . the fuck is going on with your hair?"

Then all of a sudden the phone starts ringing, and Eyebrows jerks his arm up and it goes flying off into the wall. The phone I mean. Not his arm, that would just be weird. Guy's got some killer reflexes, though. I bet he kicks major ass at foosball. We should get a table. I mean, every lair should have a ping pong table or a basket ball hoop or something, am I right? Can't just sit around being evil ALL the time. Gotta wind down every now and then. Have a beer, play some cards, then get back to the world domination. Sometimes I think Eyebrows doesn't get that. He's always on edge, plotting or pissed off or working on his hobby, you know.

So anyhow, I picked up the phone without thinking. Shoulda just ignored it. Can't answer the phone when you're in school! Dumbasses.

So I go, "Larry and Eyebrows, Evil As Shit Incorporated." But I could hear Mom talking to someone else while she's holding the phone, so I don't think she heard me. Something about elevating Doug's legs or some shit. Yeah, real sorry I didn't go to Virginia.

After she finishes talking to the important people, she says, "Lyle, honey! How was school?"

Son of a bitch! Yeah, school was fucking awesome, Mom! I walked around wondering where everyone was for a few hours, then I shot up the bathrooms with that pump action shotgun Dad left behind the encyclopedias! CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?? This is how shit happens, Mom! This is how it all gets started!

And I'm like, "It was decent, I guess. Gave a report on national holidays." Hint hint. Jeez. All of a sudden, for some reason, I want to know what Dad's up to, like does he have any photos of me up on the wall with Super Sis's? But I can't ask that, so I just ask, "What's Dad's new place like?"

Eyebrows' eyebrows shoot up when I say that, and he sits up, looking like he doesn't know what to do, like maybe he should come take the phone away from me, but he isn't sure. Finally he asks, "Is that Claire?" but I just wave for him to hush. So he starts chewing on his thumbnail, all anxious and shit, and says, "Tell her Janice meant nothing to me."

Which, I mean I don't even know what that means, so I open my mouth to keep talking to Mom, and all of a sudden Eyebrows practically launches himself off the couch and grabs onto the phone. And he claps his hand over the mouthpiece and hisses, "But for GOD'S SAKE don't mention Angela!!'

So we're kind of wrestling with the phone, and I'm finally just like, "DUDE! It is not Claire."

And he looks sorta relived, but mainly just disappointed. So he slinks back over the couch and flings himself down, pouting, and grabs another brownie.

I didn't hear shit about Dad's place, on account of Eyebrows being all creepy, but Mom said she'd text me some pictures later. So we hung up, but then she called back like ten minutes later cause she didn't have my damn number! You get that she's got Pooches and Smooches Pet Grooming Parlor on speed-dial, right? I mean, you're feeling me? Shit, I bet she gave my driver's license to Muggles! Render unto Muggles what is LYLE'S, is that how it is?? IS IT???

Anyway, when I throw the phone back on the, well you know, phone thingy, Eyebrows asks, "So who was it, then?" And I say, "Mom," all sullen-like. I never feel good after talking to Mom, you know? Eyebrows can relate. But he wasn't interested in that right now. You know how he is about Super Sis, although God knows why. So he's all, "How's Claire? Claire was there, right?"

At this point, I'm sorta pissed at him, too, so I snap, "Oh, turns out she, you know, found herself in college. Went gay and had a sex change. She's Clarence now. He sends his love."

And Eyebrows goes all pale and growls, "That's not funny, Larry."

But I just cram a whole brownie in my mouth and sit there, glaring at him and chewing. Couple minutes later, Mom's texts start coming in, and somehow or another me and Eyebrows wind up all scootched together on the couch, looking at them. Guess he doesn't mind the tights so much as long as he's got new pics of Super Sis, cause he kept saying, "Wait, go back," every time I'd flip past one, and he's wanting to know stuff like, "Can we print these?" and "Who's that girl? That brunette, who is she?" And I'm like, "No idea. Probably some kinda fucking mutant just like—oh, shit, man, I forgot, just forget I—well, you know . . . like those turtles?" But I didn't have to worry about him getting offended or anything, cause he was staring real intently at my cell phone, and finally he remarks, sorta wary-like, "That girl's hand is drifting awfully low."

And I take a closer look, and I mean I guess he had a point. Like, Super Sis and this new chick, they're posing for the camera and all, and the chick's got her arm around Super-Sis's shoulder, right? Well . . . I don't know, it was probably just the angle or something. Super Sis is too good with the geeks to go gay. Whoa, alliteration! But seriously. I mean, it's like I told Eyebrows right then, I was just kidding about that whole Clarence thing.

But I can tell Eyebrows still isn't cool with it, cause he keeps going back through all the pics with this new chick in them, scowling at her like she's, I don't know, competition or something. Haha, yeah right, if this chick's anything like him, they'd probably fucking love each other! They could pool their stalker resources and start some kinda weird-ass Super-Sis Fan Club for the Hobbit Inclined. LOL, they could make tee shirts!

I finally took the phone away from him and said, sure, I'd e-mail him the pics so he could print them. But between you and me, it ain't happening. I don't know if the dude's even aware of Photoshop, but I'm just not liking the odds of him trying to paste a pic of his own head over that gropey girl's face. That's not the kinda shit I need to run across stuck up on the fridge in our lair. We've got these little magnets. You know.

God, Eyebrows needs therapy like a motherfucker.

But anyways, I was saying about our lair. I was all ready to go back once we polished off the brownies, right? I mean of course I was. Take me away, for the love of God, before Doug comes singing through the door with Lovegood in his arms like it's their fucking wedding night or something. You know he does that, right? I only wish I was shitting you. I've seen him. And when he thinks they're all alone, he calls her Penny. This is my fucking life, people.

So right, at first I thought Eyebrows was all for it, cause I was getting him all pumped up about world domination and foosball and brownies and pancakes and stuff, and he's all, "You ever try making pancakes with Tahitian vanilla?" And, fuck, sure, dude, I'll crush up diamonds and stir it in if you want, just GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! And he's pretty mellow at that point, so I'm thinking we're just gonna glide right out smooth as peanut butter, which oh my god! I love peanut butter! This one time I made brownies, but instead of pouring all of the batter in the pan, I only poured half, right? And then I smoothed a bunch of peanut butter over it with my spoon! And THEN I poured in the rest of the brownie batter, and I baked it like that! And then I ate it straight from the pan with a fork! Holy shit!!

What was I saying? Oh yeah. But then Eyebrows seemed to come back down a little--I guess maybe one of those abilities he's got keeps him from flying too high or something--cause he leaps up and starts striding around talking a mile a minute about vengeance and how he can't let up now, cause "they're gonna pay, they're ALL GONNA PAY!" and shit like that. You know how he is. And he's ticking people off on his fingers, and for every one he ticks off, he's gotta tick off all the ways they wronged him on his other hand, and after two or three people he runs outta fingers, and honest to God, it gets confusing after a while. I usually just tune out when he gets to the thumb. I mean, me, I take it one at a time. First Muggles, then the world. Easy as fucking pie, am I right? Sure I am. Pie is good.

Anyhow, as I understood it, he breezed outta the living room on a quest to royally fuck over that perverted paramedic, which, you know, can't blame him there, but also some fat cop and an old lady. And you know, generally just everyone he's encountered in the last year or so, like some Japanese dude and a cashier who shorted him five bucks change at the 7-11. Oh, and also Dad.

I hope he's back by Christmas. I don't wanna spend Christmas home alone.

**Entry:**

Almost forgot to mention it. I saw a pic of Dad's new girlfriend, and I shit you not, she looks like Super Sis. Taller, you know, but it's there. And I'm like, holy god, what is this shit???

**Saturday—AKA Best Day of My Life So Far!**

Oh my god! OH MY GOD!!

Dad just called, and he can't find Super Sis, right, and get this—are you ready? He thinks maybe she ran away with the fucking circus!

Ahahahahaha!! Dude, I can't even fucking breathe right now! Oh my god!!! I bet she's in one of those acts where all the midgets climb on top of each other to make pyramids and shit! Hey, Claire Bear, you forgot your pom-poms—AND YOUR BIG RED NOSE! Oh, man! Fucking college! Ahahaha!

Aw, god, where's my cell phone? I gotta tell Eyebrows, like now! This is the funniest shit ever!!


End file.
